


Ying and Yang

by ixieko



Series: FFVII Folk Tales [23]
Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Folklore, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 18:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8220833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixieko/pseuds/ixieko
Summary: A story of two brothers and the ice goddess.





	

Once upon a time, there lived two brothers, two twins. Yan and Yin were their names. From their very birth they were inseparable. Yin, the older, was loud and short-tempered and strong, while the younger, Yan, was quiet and thoughtful and most loved by elders for his quick wit; but if anyone talked ill of Yin, Yan was always quick to defend his brother, and if anyone tried to hurt Yan, Yin was there to fight them off.

As coming of age gifts, parents gave Yin his father’s armor and sword. Yan they gave ancient magic stones that were kept by their family for generations, which no one knew how to use.

Yan spent long days and nights studying old manuscripts in attempt to learn about magic stones, and when he finished reading all he could find, he went to his parents and told them, “Mother and Father, I want to travel to other cities and villages, meet mages and witches, and find more books to read, for I learned all I could learn here, and there’s still so much more to learn.”

“I’ll go with you, brother,” said Yin, and they left together.

For years Yin and Yan traveled the country, visiting all libraries, all mages and sorcerers they could find. On their way they helped people: hunted monsters, protected villages from evil mages and wicked witches, and people helped them in turn.

Once in summer, when the brothers were visiting library in the capital city, Yan met a young scholar there. She was also studying magic stones, and she was impressed by his knowledge and skill, and they quickly became friends.  Together they read ancient books, and enjoyed each other’s company, and soon fell in love. Since then, Yan often returned to the capital city, sometimes together with Yin, but sometimes alone, leaving his brother behind.

By fall, Yan and his lover decided to marry. Yin felt lonely and jealous, but, unwilling to bring Yan any pain, he remained silent and focused on helping people instead.

One day, when Yan was with his fiancé, the chieftain of the village where Yin was waiting for him, asked the young warrior for help, to get rid of a nasty monster, - a malboro that lived in a nearby swamp. Yin killed the monster, but in the battle he was hit by malboro’s bad breath and fell ill from it. By the time Yan came back and cured his brother, Yin’s legs and right arm withered and weakened and would not be healed.

Then Yan took Yin and went back to their home town, and left him there with their parents, and returned to the capital city, to try and find cure for his brother’s illness.

Lonely was Yin, helpless and miserable. For a long time he would only sit in his room beside the window, unwilling to eat, or talk to anyone, or move.

As winter ended and spring began, Yin’s mood began to improve slowly. He again found himself enjoying conversations with his parents and with Yan and his fiancé when they visited. He learned to move around the house on a floating chair Yan made for him, and spent less and less time sitting beside the window.

But as Yin’s mood lightened, Yan’s only grew darker, for neither books nor famous mages and renowned healers could help his brother. He blamed himself for Yin’s injury, and guilt made him desperate for a way to heal his brother. He turned to darker arts of magic and traveled the country, talking to many dark mages and wicked witches and begging them for help.

Once, when he was crossing a deep dark forest, he saw an old woman who was being attacked by a pack of wolves. Casting a bright fireball, he chased off the wolves, and the woman thanked him and asked what he wanted for helping her.

When he told her about Yan’s illness, the old woman said: “There is an ice goddess who lives on the very top of North Peak where snow never melts, she can help. But remember, young mage, her magic always comes with steep price.”

“As long as she cures my brother from his illness, I don’t care about price,” said Yan to that.

The old woman then taught him the ritual to summon the goddess: “Take a pointed scale from a wind wing’s tail, three zemzelett’s feathers, and seven beachplug’s eggs, mix them in a bowl, cast Ice on them and say: Zahbar, Huatan, ice goddess, I call upon you; Cahan, Shuurhan, come down from your snowy kingdom and take these humble offerings; Zeh’nova, Kav’ichuun, hear my words.”

Yan memorized the words, thanked the woman, and went to search for the ingredients she named.

Long or short, he came to the seashore and saw a beachplug there, laying eggs in shallow water.

“Please, give me seven of your eggs,” Yan asked.

The beachplug said, “Tell me why do you need my eggs, and I will give them to you.”

“I need them to summon the ice goddess who lives on the North Peak.”

“No,” said the beachplug. “She is evil and I do not wish my eggs to be used for summoning her.”

“Please,” Yan begged, “she is the only one who can help my brother. Please, I cannot see him suffering anymore, I need to save him.”

But the beachplug said, “Hear me, human. Zahbar is evil and she cannot be trusted. You will only destroy your brother and yourself.”

 Seeing that the beachplug would not help him, Yan got angry, and cast fire on it, and killed it. Ashamed of himself, he collected seven eggs and ran away from the shore.

Soon he came to grasslands where zemzeletts lived and saw one dancing in tall grass.

“Please,” Yan asked, “give me three of your feathers.”

“I will,” zemzelett said, “but first tell me why you need them.”

“I need to summon the ice goddess who lives on the North Peak. She is the only one who can heal my brother.”

“Who told you that?” The bird asked. “They must have lied to you. Shuurhan cannot heal anyone, she brings only destruction, and cold, and death. Do not go to her, human.”

“Please,” Yan begged, “give me your feathers. I know that the goddess isn’t kind, but she is the only one who can save my brother, and I need her help.”

But zemzelett refused, and Yan killed it too, and took three of its feathers, and ran away.

Long was the road to the very northern part of the land, but, sooner or later, Yan came there and saw a wind wing dancing in the air above hot springs.

“Please,” Yan asked, “give me a sharp-pointed scale from your tail.”

“Tell me first, why do you need it?” The wind wing asked.

Yan answered, “I need to summon the ice goddess who lives on the North Peak. My brother is ill, and she is the only one who can help him.”

“Are you insane, human?” The wind wing exclaimed. “Kav’ichuun does not help anyone, for she is white as ice and just as cold, and her heart warms to no one. If you summon her, it will only bring you disaster.”

Yan begged and pleaded for the wild wing to give him the scale, but the dragon refused. In anger and desperation, Yan struck it with lightning and killed it, and took the scale from its tail, and ran away in shame.

Long was the road back to his home town, but finally Yan arrived there and was relieved to see that his brother was still alive.

“Hello, brother,” Yin greeted him, “where have you been for so long? We missed you.”

But, ashamed of his deeds, Yan hid the truth and lied that he had been traveling the country, asking around for the way to cure Yin’s illness.

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Yin told him, “I’m getting used to being the way I am now. Even if you cannot find the cure, I will be fine. So, please, brother, stay here with us, don’t go away anymore.”

Yan promised him that, and they sat at the table then, and ate, and talked. But when night came and everyone went to sleep, Yan quietly sneaked out of the house, and went to the forest, and put all the ingredients into a bowl, and cast Ice, and said the summoning.

“Zahbar,” he said, and cold northern wind began to blow, “Huatan, ice goddess, I call upon you.”

“Cahan,” he said, and the grass around him froze as frost covered it, “Shuurhan, come down from your snowy kingdom and take these humble offerings.”

“Zeh’nova,” he said, and an ice ball began to grow from inside the bowl, “Kav’ichuun, hear my words.”

And as he finished, the ice ball grew up as big as a human and fell apart into million pieces, and the ice goddess emerged from it. White she was like snow, cold and beautiful like deadly winter blizzard, and her lips were blue like ice.

“Please,” he told her, “my brother was hit by malboro’s bad breath and no magic can heal him. Can you help him?”

The goddess looked at Yan with her purple eyes and smiled with her blue lips and said, “Oh, I can certainly help with that, young mage. There is very little that I can’t do in this world. The question is, what are you willing to give me in return?”

“Anything,” said Yan.

“Anything?” The goddess asked. “Good. Now, how do you want me to help him?”

“Could you restore his legs and arm back to what they were?”

“No,” said the goddess, “however, I can give him yours… or you can both share your body. Or,” she added, seeing that he wanted to argue, “if you don’t like my solution, I can go back to my home and leave you be. What do you choose?”

“No, don’t go,” Yan said quickly, before the goddess could disappear, “I just want him to be able to walk again. I can share my body with him. What do you want as payment?”

“Your heart,” she said. “The heart of a man willing to give up everything for his loved one... I rarely see something this warm in my cold realm.”

Seeing no other choice, Yan agreed. The goddess then took a blade of grass, and blew her icy breath upon it, and it turned into a silver blade. With it the goddess opened Yan’s chest and took his heart, and then said, “Wind, north wind, bring me what I need,” and north wind brought Yin to her. “Frost, white frost, take away what’s already dead,” she said, and Yin’s legs and right hand disappeared. “Ice, cold ice, make two into one,” she said, and Yan’s and Yin’s bodies melded together, leaving only their heads still apart.

“Well, this is even better than I hoped,” the goddess said, laughing, and blew her cold breath onto the brothers, waking them up. “Now, I am done. Enjoy your remaining time under sun, humans.” And with that, she disappeared into thin air, leaving only a cloud of snowflakes behind.

“What have you done, brother?” cried Yin. “How will we live like this? What about your fiancé? The wedding?”

But Yan said, “I don’t care about her.”

“What about our parents?” Yin cried. “How will they feel now?”

But Yan said, “I don’t care about them.”

“Well then, what about me?” Yin asked. “How will I live now, knowing that you sacrificed yourself for me?”

But Yan said, “I don’t care about you.”

And that was true, for the ice goddess took away his heart, and with it she took away his love, too, leaving only cold and emptiness.

Soon the brothers left the village, returning to their life on the road. Yin spent months upon months looking for the old woman who told Yan about the ice goddess, in hopes that she could probably help to undo the goddess’ work. Yan simply followed his brother’s lead; he didn’t care where they went and what they did.

Little by little Yin began to notice that Yan’s magic was becoming weaker, and he seemed less and less focused, often falling asleep even in the middle of a battle.

When they finally found the old woman, Yin invited her to their room in the inn, and there she told them, “I warned this boy that the goddess’ help comes with a high price; it is not my fault he did not listen. Now, are you unhappy with the outcome?”

“Yes,” Yin said, “and I want to undo it all. Can you help us?”

“No,” the woman said. “If anyone can help you, it’s the goddess herself. Your brother knows the ritual, do it and try to talk to her.”

But Yin said, “I don’t think the ritual will be necessary.”

And with that he nudged his brother, and Yan cast Fire, and the woman was trapped in the middle of a fiery cage.

“Ah!” The woman laughed, and cast away her disguise, revealing snow-white skin, and blue lips, and eyes purple like winter sky on dusk. “I never expected you to be the smart one, boy. Now, you caught me, what do you want?”

“I want you to give my brother’s heart back,” Yin said. “And to make us both the way we were before.”

“Your brother’s heart?” The goddess said. “It long since burned out and turned into ice. Even if I put that icicle into your brother’s chest, it would do him no good. As for separating you, I’m afraid, neither of you will survive that. But you will not survive for long anyway, if this is any consolation for you.”

“Why?” asked Yin.

“Because you peculiar little humans cannot live without your peculiar little hearts,” she said, “and your brother can only live for so long without his, even if yours is so close.”

“Well then,” Yin said, “at least we will take you with us!” And he nudged Yan again, and Yan cast more Fire, and Yin attacked the ice goddess with his fire-enchanted sword, and under their combined attack she shrieked, and wailed, and melt away, turning into a puddle of clean water.

The brothers then left the inn and walked away, and Yin led the way while Yan slumbered on his shoulder. All the way to the North Peak they walked, and all the way Yin was singing songs to Yan, and telling him stories, and promising that they were going to find Yan’s heart and the way to separate their bodies.

They say that the brothers’ spirits still roam the world. If you see Yin and Yan, run away, for they are going to kill you and rip your heart out in hopes that it will be Yan’s lost heart.

_(From “The tales of North”, Evan Marius, 1932)_

* * *

 

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

“What is it, Grim?”

“This is one of the most messed up stories I ever read, Gast. Who the hell is this stupid? Everyone told him to stop, Gast, even the damn brainless beachplug, but he…”

“Oh. It’s… It’s okay, Grim, calm down.”

“I need more beer for this.”

“I think you already had enough, friend.”

“Eh, you may be right, Gast. Hm… Hm. Did you notice this?”

“What?”

“The names from the summoning. Shuurhan, Zeh’nova and all the others.”

“Ah, yes, they all are names of either spirits of ice and snow, or goddesses of blizzard, or even personifications of winter.”

“Exactly. All from different dialects, a couple even from different language groups.”

“And again, it all points to northern mountains. I’m telling you, Grim, this is not a coincidence! Ah, if we only could determine the exact place!..”

“Well, here we go again. Hey, Shildra, bring more beer! We’re going to overanalyze and theorize!”


End file.
